Secrets & Lies Page #9

- Are you?

Another one bites the dust.

That must be quite dangerous.

Well, it can be.

Come and lollop over here.

D'you go up really high?

Sometimes.

Just you and

the elements, really.

Ever fallen off?

Would you like a crudite?

- Thank you, no.

- Oh, well.

- You work with my mum?

- Yeah.

- On the machines?

- No.

Comin' round

tomorrow night, Paul?

- Mum!

- Well...

- Eh?

- We're goin' out.

You'll come and have

a drink? It's her 21st.

It's no big deal.

- I ain't give you your present.

- Chicken drumsticks.

- D'you want some salad?

- Yes, please.

I'll get you some.

Doing something special

tomorrow night?

No. Down the pub, as usual.

- Can we use fingers?

- Use your feet if you want.

- You've a knife and fork, Jane.

- Bit late now.

What d'you do at the factory?

- This looks lovely.

- Hope it don't kill ya.

- You ain't her boss?

- No.

- Here you are.

- Thank you.

- Some salad, Paul?

- No, thanks.

- It's good for you.

- He don't want none.

What about Jane?

Does she want salad?

Ta very much.

What do you do, Roxanne?

I work for the council.

- Down the dole?

- No, I'm a road sweeper.

Who's for a potato?

- She's got my plate.

- Here you are.

- Hortense?

- Please.

- I'll have some of that.

- Please.

You DO get girl road sweepers.

- Burgers and bangers.

- Nice one.

That's your one, Roxanne.

With your name on it.

The burnt one.

- Potato for you, Paul?

- Please.

A nice big one.

- Here, darlin'.

- One for you, pet?

Shall I do YOU, Monica?

I'll see to myself. Sit down.

What about Maurice?

Who's lookin' after the worker?

Don't worry about me.

I'll eat in a minute.

Your potato's there, Cynthia.

I think I'LL have salad.

Can I have my tongs back?

- Got butter?

- Yes. Just a minute.

And mustard, Monica.

You like the American,

don't you, Roxanne?

Yeah. Ta.

I'll just get some salad.

- Some butter, Paul?

- All right, darlin'?

- Please.

- Waitin' for the butter.

- There, Cynth.

- Oh, Maurice!

That'll shut you up.

Having a steak,

are you, Cynthia?

Yes. Thank you, Monica.

That'll put hairs on your chest.

Like some mustard

or would you prefer French?

This looks lovely, Maurice.

Right.

There you go, mate.

Half a cow for you.

- Look at the size of it!

- Ridiculous.

There's enough there

for ALL of us.

Put colour in your cheeks.

No-one else wants a steak?

- Ain't you havin' one?

- No, Cynthia.

- Not allowed.

- Mustard, Paul?

- It's lovely.

- Can't get rid of it, can you?

Oh, it's a real

communal thing, eating.

Yes.

This is a lovely house.

Well, WE like it.

I'll show you round

later, if you want.

Thanks. That'd be nice.

Yeah, it's brilliant.

You live in a flat, Hortense?

Yeah.

It's her own.

She's got a mortgage.

- Whereabouts are you?

- Kilburn.

That's a bit of a schlepp.

Old Kent Road

and back every day.

- She drives!

- I get on the tube.

I drive to the station.

You've got a bedsit,

ain't you, Paul?

- Yeah.

- That's a shame.

Wish I had

a place of me own.

D'you still live at home, then?

No chance!

You two work

on the same machine?

No. I'm the only one

on slits.

D'you choose your own

working hours, Roxanne?

Not bloody likely.

- She's going to college.

- I ain't goin'.

Hortense went to college.

Mm. What did you study?

- Optometry.

- What's that, then?

- It's to do with the eye.

- That's right.

Testing.

- Given it all up now, have you?

- Not exactly.

Why are you working in

a cardboard box factory, then?

- I'm doing research.

- That's interestin'.

What sort of research?

- Medical.

- What, you lookin' at her head?

Take no notice.

There's nothing wrong

with HER head.

- Did you go to university?

- Yeah.

- Did you do a degree?

- Yes.

- She just looks at our eyes.

- Yes.

What for?

You can tell

a lot about people

- from lookin' at their eyes.

- True.

- Can you?

- Windows to your soul.

A nice way

of puttin' it, Jane.

- Who wants a top up?

- No, thanks, I'm driving.

Yes, please.

- Here you are.

- Oi, greedy guts!

Take a leaf out of

her book, Paul.

- Lost his licence.

- All right, Mum.

- Did you have an accident?

- Just had one too many.

The demon drink, eh?

Is that who you've

been goin' out with?

Yes. She thought

I'd been seein' a bloke.

Could've been, I suppose.

- I still turn heads.

- Turn stomachs!

[Bang!]

Oh, Jane!

I was just playin' with it.

D'you want one, Hortense?

We might as well pop the lot.

- No! No!

- It's like a bonfire.

# Happy birthday to you

# Happy birthday to you

# Happy birthday, dear Stinker

[Roxanne]

Yeah, Maurice, very funny(!)

[Cynthia] Darlin', join in.

# Happy birthday to you #

Hip-hip, hooray!

Nice one - champagne.

- Did anybody bring my camera in?

- It's there.

- D'you have to, Monica?

- Of course.

[Roxanne] Watch where

you point that, Maurice.

And... [Quiet pop]

Come on, blow your

candles out, Roxanne.

Everybody else gather round.

- Come on, darlin'.

- Cynth, you tuck in there.

Hortense, in there.

Hurry. It's burnin'

me eyebrows off.

Make a wish. One big blow.

- And...

- Cheese!

Hey!

I hope your wish

comes true, pet.

- Roxy.

- Ta.

Cynth.

Here you are, sweetheart.

Oh, that's nice. Mm.

And Paul.

- Cynth again.

- Thank you, Maurice.

- Cor, this is livin', ain't it?

- Yeah.

[Maurice] OK. One for me.

Right.

On you go, then.

Oh, yeah.

OK.

Er...

I would like to propose a toast

for Roxanne

on her 21st birthday.

Now it's all legal

and twice as boring

for it.

Mind you, it's been legal

since you were 18 anyway.

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

- Ta.

- Roxanne.

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday.

- There you go.

- What's that?

- Book token.

- Don't be stupid!

F***in' hell, Maurice.

[Roxanne] Thanks!

- Your 21st, innit?

- Thanks, Monica.

Happy birthday, pet.

Don't spend it all

in the one shop.

Here, happy birthday.

Wish I'd brought

MY present with me.

Give it to her tomorrow.

That's her birthday.

Don't expect I shall

see her tomorrow.

Gonna sit down, darlin'?

Sit down, everybody.

Have some cake.

Hortense. Jane.

[Roxanne] Where am I goin'?

[Maurice] Anywhere you like.

- Come on the end, Paul.

- Hortense.

Where's the bathroom?

It's just through there,

sweetheart.

[Maurice] The door straight

ahead, the light's on the left.

Thank you.

- She's a nice girl.

- Yes, she is, Maurice.

- Seems very pleasant.

- Yeah, she's all right.

- How you doin', Paul?

- All right.

- Has your shirt dried off?

- Yeah.

She takes after her mother.

[Maurice] Does she?

[Monica] You know her as well?

[Maurice] Work at

the factory, does she?

You're lookin' at her.

Eh?

She's my daughter.

What's the matter with ya?

Maurice...

it's me daughter.

Don't be stupid.

She's had too much to drink.

She can't be the one that...

What?

Hortense, sweetheart.

She's your sister!

What?

That's her half-sister, Paul.

You... you eat your

cake, sweetheart.

Thanks.

- What's the matter?

- I'm all right.

[Cynthia] I told 'em.

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